


Return To Sender

by poetically_ordinary



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Gen, M/M, Pining, Realizations, Sleep Deprivation, Steve Rogers-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetically_ordinary/pseuds/poetically_ordinary
Summary: It happens without fanfare, without explosions or any of the other grand events that seem to take place where the brunet is concerned.Steve thinks it might have been easier if it had.





	

It happens without fanfare, without explosions or any of the other grand events that seem to take place where the brunet is concerned.

Steve thinks it might have been easier if it had.

If it had happened one of the various times that Tony was walking away all dramatically from something that he just rigged to blow up, or if it happened in one of those fast talking moments that the Iron Man pilot is known for. Hell, Steve would have been okay with it if it had happened like everyone else seemed to have it happen. When Tony was coming down the stairs or exiting an elevator, fixing his cufflinks on his several thousand dollar suit for the charity event that night. When he’s the exact model of sexual fantasy that’s sold in every magazine worldwide.

He used to imagine that love would be like that feeling he felt for Peggy in the early days. That awestruck respect that he had for her, the need to turn to her as if she were the sun whenever she walked into the room. Slow, gradual and growing in strength and warmth as the days go on.

Instead, the day it happens, it just sort of hits him. His stomach dropping out and making him feel like he had just crawled off of one of those old rides that Bucky used to make him get on before he’d be sick all over the nearby trashcans.

Tony hadn’t even been doing anything spectacular either, and somehow Steve knows that just makes it worse.

He’s not smiling for the cameras, he’s not redefining science yet again for his generation, he’s not saving the world and being a bit of a posturing peacock as he does it… instead he practically stumbles into the kitchen at six am. His hair is a mess, and there’s a smear of grease from where Tony clearly rubbed his hand down the side of his face at some point in the previous night. He’s missing one sock and Steve isn’t a hundred percent sure that the t-shirt and sweat pants shouldn’t be burned as a hazmat contaminant with how much gunk is on them.

“Good morning Tony.” Steve greets and the billionaire blinks at him, takes in his workout attire and makes a face like Steve has personally wounded him. The resulting sound that comes as acknowledgment to his greeting is something between a groan and a grunt.

Tony reaches out and grabs the coffee and the small pack of coffee filters, no doubt getting ready to make coffee that could kill a normal person by clogging up their arteries, but somewhere in his sleep addled brain his fingers stumble over the individual pieces of paper and he almost drops the coffee can.

The lid isn’t on anymore and it spins in the air. Tony jolts for a second, a high-pitched panicked noise escaping his lips, reaching out to catch it. He manages in the most ungraceful like set of maneuvers, almost dropping it a few times, but that doesn’t stop almost half of the containers contents to end up flung around the counter and floor. It’s over in mere moments, and Tony lets out a pathetic groan before just face planting into the counter in obvious protest to the morning.

It’s the moment that changes everything, the feeling of being without sea legs rushing up to grip him as he stares at the other man who is clearly oblivious to the internal crisis that Steve’s going through.

“I’m gonna…” The words come out a little tighter and a little faster than he means them to, but Tony doesn’t seem to care as he keeps his face where he’s laid it and just waves one arm in Steve’s direction.

Steve takes off for his morning run with a kind of energy behind him that would make someone wonder if he was being chased by a crazy killer clown brandishing a knife.

...If only.


End file.
